I landed in Kent, WA in the early nineties, from Oakland, CA. What stuff I had left was in storage down in the Bay Area. I flew up to Washington with one of my Jewish investors, a former tank commander with the Israel army. Our business connection had ended and he was off to meet with Microsoft.
I hooked up with Riley and his mom, who had just moved up to Kent. I lived there for many years, starting a new separate life, while raising Riley.
I remember New Years Eve 2000, walking back to their place after a night at the local bar. I honestly never thought I would live into the 20th century, but there I was. Suddenly out of the dark a beautiful woman appeared and kissed me strong, I was her New Years kiss, and I never saw her again.
It's now more than twenty four years later, and I'm still alive. I can't remember the last time I kissed a woman, much less on New Years Eve. Probably Steph since it was our anniversary.
What this has taught me is that setting limits on your life span is foolish. Also thinking you may never be with a woman again, may be wrong.
It's been a great day today. I had breakfast at Pats Cafe around eight. Eggs over easy, hash browns and sausage.
Then I went for a drive, up toward the park, when I called my friend. He was 3.8 miles away, he asked me to pick him up, so I did.
We stoped at a gas station where he bought an amazing array of greasy fried food, that we took back to my place, and he ate it all.
We spent the afternoon stoned. Not messing with anyone, just sitting in my wide open little space at the bottom of a dead end street in a small little house at the bottom of Tennessee.
A women dropped by, I liked her a lot, we talked about websites. Maybe my knowledge will connect again.
It's been a lonely weekend, too cold to go out and play, my neighbors wife has occupied his time completely, while my other friend has no vehicle and ladies to juggle. In other words, I have no life.
I really wish I was stoned, guess I should work on that. The weather is warming up to 70° by Wednesday and maybe a drive to the Thrive Metropolis dispensary up in Illinois would be a good test of the money I've put into my truck recently.
It's a couple hundred miles each way and I could layover in the Rest Area up there. The last time I drove there I took the mystery lady with me, and I've since lost touch with her completely.
I'm running out of reasons to restrain from stupidity. I'm tired of just hanging out with myself, done that too many times over the course of my life. Survival is not living, it's just waiting to die.
Fuck Tennessee, I wish I was back in Idaho, to be around my sisters family. I wish I was back in Washington, to be around my sons family. I wish I could afford Florida, to be around my grand-daughter Shelby.
It was a mistake moving here, thinking I could start a new connection with Stephs family. I fell in love with her grand-daughters, and was ultimately kicked to the curb. Now they've all disappeared from my life, my stash is almost gone, and I am alone and drunk, in a small place on a dead-end street.
I have two friends here, my neighbor Daniel, and a guy that gets me stoned once in a while, that asks to be anonymous. My neighbor has a wife and a life, while the other has no vehicle.
How did such a promising life get so fucked up? I was a computer genius back in the seventies and eighties, at one point making $250 an hour, collecting the cash as I walked out the door. I created great systems that made companies.
Back in Seattle during the nineties I was the first employee of the year for the largest paratransit company on the West coast, and eventually lead supervisor. That's where I met Steph and we ended up moving to Idaho.
It's been an amazing fucked up life. I failed my daughter in the late seventies and she went on to have fourteen children, most of which I've never met.
I really wish I'd had one of those magical lives, where you love and marry a woman, raise a large family, and end up surrounded by them as the patriarch.
But I did not. Instead I'm a pathetic old man, with no family around, wishing I had the balls to end it all, but I don't, and all I have now is regrets.
I've been thinking real hard lately about my life, which is easy because I don't have one anymore. I've shared a lot of it here, probably way too much, but I find that writing about it helps a bit.
I could have just been writing a daily journal all these years, for maybe someone to read when I'm gone, but instead I share my stuff, my strength and my weakness, with the world.
I often dive deep into the weakness part, leave it up for a few hours or a day, and then send the Post to the trash.
It actually doesn't matter to me now what the world thinks. I only have a very few people left in my life, and they know who I am. If the world drops by my blog and reads a Post, well that's cool.
Verbs, nouns, pronouns and adjectives have been floating through my brain a lot lately, describing this point in my life that I have arrived at. I'm going to write them here, and if it's too much, please bail now!
The Physical: Old, out of shape, barely walking, falling. I'm amazed I can still do the things that keep me going, and I'm fading quickly.
The Medical: Parkinsons, Dementia, Arthralgia. The shakes are getting worse and I find myself doing simple things stupidly, and painfully.
The Emotional: Depressed, lonely, regretful, suicidal. I spend most of my days alone and crying.
The Sexual: Wishful, accepting, over. I will never experience a woman again.
The Compassionate: Caring, helpful, generous, non-judgmental. I have this desire to help people in need, and I do as often as I can, unless I find myself being used.
So here's where I've landed in life. It could be much worse, and I'm grateful it's not. I'm going to live my life until it's taken from me. This is my Synopsis.
Kip the homeless guy came by today. The last time he showed up at my door I turned him away. I was still pissed off from a previous attempt to help him, and I just closed the door.
Today as I looked at him in his beat up, living under the local bridge clothes, my humanity to my fellow man kicked in, and I allowed him inside.
I made him a drink and we chatted for a while. I said I was still pissed at him, he wanted to know why, and I told him. No anger or animosity, just stated the facts, and he accepted it.
He's used up every service in the county and they're all turning him away now. His life has been a tormented mess since he was born here forty years ago. I saw the agony in his eyes today.
But I have done what I can, I slipped him a twenty and sent him out the door. Then I sprayed down and cleaned my chair.
Shelby is hanging out with the girls tonight at Mardi Gras in Pensacola, and sent me a shot.
The previous night she sent me this:
It's her with Pensacola's resident artist Homer Jolly. I know she loves that town, she and Homer cooked me Thanksgiving dinner before a swanky party one year. The next year he escorted us through the Alabama State Zoo, that he designed.
Hey Homer, looking good!
As I was looking at that shot of the krewe I thought how nice it would be to zoom in on any face and see details about them, using a worldwide facial recognition database, implemented by AI.
Of course the tech exists, it's just not available to us. Do you ever just have peanut butter for dinner?
Actually, I just did. Kept the jar on the counter with a kitchen knife hovered over the sink, as I wrote at my laptop.
I jokingly told Shelby that I would jump in my truck and join them all down there for Mardi Gras, and she thankfully said we should shoot for a quieter weekend in March, instead.
I'm doing good just getting to the peanut butter and I couldn't concur more!
Shelby is heading to Mardi Gras in Pensacola, FL. She used to live and work there, joined this Krewe, recently did a Christmas event with them, and now she's headed back.
She didn't go into detail about all the events that were planned, but I sensed a slight concern at keeping up with all these beautiful women, at the 2024 Pensacola Mardi Gras.
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